Time To Go
by Zaise
Summary: There is a massacre on L3, and the culprit is... well, find out!


---------------------------------------------------------  
TIME TO GO  
by Laisia [animestarre@aol.com]  
Disclaimer: GW isn't mine. As usual.  
Warnings: Language. Death. Angst.  
Pairings: 4x3, a little 1x2  
---------------------------------------------------------  
  
It was time to go. A final glance at the clock, a final check of his bag. Dressed all in black to camoflauge himself against the cloak of the night, he was out the door and gone.  
  
A smirk graced a corner of his mouth, and his eyes gleamed a little too brightly. It was time to go.  
  
*****  
  
"Good evening. I'm Joanna Rondeau, here to give you your daily news, here on Channel 15, your number one source for all the top news! Last night, Colony L3 suffered a brutal massacre. The death toll is still raising in hospitals on neighboring colonies, but the number of deaths at the moment exceeds 800. The massacre is believed to have been carried out by a single masked figure. All features of the criminal were indistinguishable due to the figure's mask and black clothing, according to the few survivors of this massacre. If you know anything about this incident, please contact us by video phone, code G15E2173166. Now for your weather report, brought to you by..."  
  
Wufei switched off the TV. "Colony L3..." he muttered to himself, thinking. "That's Trowa's colony! I should call him and see how he's doing." With that, he rose off the couch and walked over to the video phone.  
  
*****  
  
"Two nights, please," the man said, smiling at the woman behind the counter.  
  
"Certainly, sir," the woman said, smiling back. "Your name, please?"  
  
The man paused. Fear flashed through his eyes, but she didn't catch it. "Nolet. Nathaniel Nolet."  
  
Looking down at her records, the woman scribbled the name on a pad of paper, then entered it into the computer on the desk. She looked up and smiled again. "All right, Mr. Nolet, you're all set. Your room will be Room #628. Here's your key. Enjoy your stay at the Celaway Inn!"  
  
"Thank you, miss," the man said, picking up his bags and his room key. He walked over to the elevator, pushing the button. After a moment, there was a ding and the doors slid open.  
  
As the elevator rose up the structure of the building, one word entered the man's head and repeated itself over and over. //Tonight.//  
  
*****  
  
"Hi Trowa. Did you hear about your colony?"  
  
"Yes. I heard."  
  
"Are... are you all right?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Oh. Is there... anything I can do?"  
  
"No."  
  
"..."  
  
"But thank you for asking."  
  
"Of course."  
  
"..."  
  
"I should probably let you be, then."  
  
"If you want."  
  
"No. If YOU want, Trowa."  
  
"..."  
  
"Well?"  
  
"Yes. Please. If you will, that is..."  
  
"Yes, I will. All right. Bye, and feel free to call me if you want to talk..."  
  
"Okay. And, thank you, Wufei."  
  
"Any time."  
  
*****  
  
The man turned on the video phone in his hotel room. He looked down at the notes he had scribbled during that night's news report, and punched in the code written there: G15E2173166.  
  
"Hello? Do you know anything about the massacre?"  
  
"Yes. I know where the culprit is, and even in what hotel room."  
  
"Oh, thank you! Where?"  
  
"He's in the Celaway Inn. Room #628."  
  
"Thank you very much, sir! May I have your name?"  
  
The man hung up. He closed his eyes, and started to laugh. A low, deep, laugh. A laugh from the depths of his being and the bottom of his soul.  
  
His work was done. He no longer had a purpose to live.  
  
*****  
  
"We now interrupt your regularly scheduled programming to bring you this urgent news flash."  
  
"K'SO!" Duo yelled, banging his fist on his TV tray. "Right in the middle of Sailor Moon, too! What the hell could be so important, anyway?"  
  
"Calm down, Duo," Heero said from his place across the room, reading a book. "It's just a news flash. It'll be over soon."  
  
"Guess so," Duo muttered, settling back to watch whatever was so damned important that they had to cut into Sailor Moon.  
  
"This is Joanna Rondeau, with an update on the L3 Massacre. The culprit has been captured! Oddly enough, the culprit actually turned himself in by calling us and giving us his location. We didn't know that our source was the culprit until we arrived and the man was the same person we had seen on the video phone."  
  
"What the hell? What a stupid fruitcake!" Duo said, smirking. "Turning himself in!"  
  
"He claims that his name is Nathaniel Nolet, but no such name appears on any colony or Earth record. We are currently investigating his real identity."  
  
A photo appeared on the screen. "If you know this man and know his real name, please contact us, at code G15E2173166 again."  
  
Duo didn't have a chance to call. He was slumped over on the couch in a dead faint, shock etched across his features.  
  
"The culprit will be put to death tomorrow afternoon by lethal injection. He requests that his death be put on the news, so we are doing that as a final request. Tune in tomorrow at 4:30 if you actually want to watch this event."  
  
Heero looked up, interest caught, and stared at the photo on the TV screen. "No..." he said quietly. "Oh no. Not him. He didn't do that..." He paused, a tear trickling down his face. "Did he?"  
  
*****  
  
"Now you will be put to death. Hopefully, God will embrace you at the golden gates and forgive your sins."  
  
The man spat, cackling. "There is no God, you fool."  
  
"You have killed over 800 people, and you are proven to be fully insane."  
  
"Damn straight. I'm insane and damned proud. Hey world! Guess what! I'm insane!" he yelled, waving at the video camera, still cackling.  
  
"Do you have any last words before your life is ended?"  
  
"You bet. You're a fucking asshole. Who? You know who you are. You know I'm talking to you. How dare you leave me. That's why I did that, you know. And I hope you feel the sting. I hope you feel the rage, hurt, and anger I felt. I die with no regrets!"  
  
With that, the man grabbed the needle from the woman standing nearby, flipped the birdie at the camera, cackled again, and jabbed it into his arm.  
  
*****  
  
Trowa stared at the TV screen, watching as his former lover's profanity was bleeped out due to censorship, and as he jabbed the needle into his arm. Only Trowa caught the truly sad, truly regretful look in the man's eyes, behind all the profanity and insanity.  
  
His eyes blurred, and he hunched over, quietly sobbing. //Why did I ever let you go...? Quatre... rest in peace.//  
  



End file.
